


Oreo Cookies

by KaibaSlaveGirl34



Series: Buffy Stories and Oneshots [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Canon Related, Community: comment_fic, Cookies, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Episode: s03e18 Earshot, F/M, Food, One Word Prompt Meme, Oreos, Prompt Fic, Wordcount: 100-2.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-27
Updated: 2010-08-27
Packaged: 2017-10-11 06:56:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/109688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaibaSlaveGirl34/pseuds/KaibaSlaveGirl34
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after Earshot. Willow’s trying her best to come up with a good poem, and does find a good thing to write about — Oreo cookies. But she gets writer’s block. Luckily, Oz helps her out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oreo Cookies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Harry2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harry2/gifts), [waddiwasiwitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/waddiwasiwitch/gifts).



> Hey there, my fellow writers and readers. Here’s a new Buffy oneshot I thought up while thinking about the couple of Willow and Oz. I was trying to think of a few good prompts for them, and these words popped into my brain: Oreo cookies. (They sure are a temptation that even I can't resist. ;) I know; I’ve tried.)
> 
> This takes place after “Earshot” — which is an inspiring as well as excellently written episode — and before “Choices”.
> 
> Disclaimer: Genius Joss Whedon owns Buffy: the Vampire Slayer. The lyrics to Like the Rain by Clint Black belong to their respective owners. I own the fanfics I cook up from time to time.

Oreo Cookies

_And when the night falls on our better days_  
_And we're looking to the sky_  
_For the winds to take us high above the plains_  
_I know that we'll find better ways to look into the eye_  
_of the storms that will be calling_  
_Forever we'll be falling_

_Like the rain I have fallen for you, and I know just why you_  
_Like the rain always calling for you, I'm falling for you now just_  
_Like the rain I have fallen for you, and I know just why you_  
_Like the rain always calling for you, I'm falling for you now just_  
_Like the rain I have fallen for you, and I know just why you_  
_Like the rain always calling for you, I'm falling for you now just_  
_Like the rain_  
_Like the rain_  
_Like the rain_  
_Like the rain_  
_Like the rain_  
_Like the rain_  
~Clint Black, **Like the Rain**

It was Saturday at Willow Rosenberg’s house in Sunnydale, California. Her green eyes dancing with ideas, Willow looked down at the pad of paper as she sat on the couch, her boyfriend Daniel Osbourne — who preferred to be called Oz — sitting next to her, looking down at the pad of paper with his arm wrapped around her shoulders. Oz was a werewolf — having been bitten on the finger by his cousin Jordy — but Willow didn’t mind that at all.

At the moment, after weeks of struggling with the dreaded “writer’s block”, Willow had finally found something that filled her mind with inspiration — a plate of Oreo cookies, which happened to be empty as she and Oz had divided them in half — five for Oz and five for Willow — and then eaten them.

She had been wanting to write a poem for weeks – not for English class, though, just for a little fun, and to try her hand at it. But for some reason writer’s block had gotten in the way. And Willow had discovered that writer’s block was one of the most dreaded and disliked things that writers, authors and songwriters hated with a passion.

She didn’t know why, though — but one of these days she hoped she could find out.

“Wills?”

Willow blinked as she looked at Oz. He gave her an encouraging smile, one that made her heart skip a beat as it always did. “Yes, Oz?” she asked.

It was true that Oz was a man of few words. Her friend Buffy had recently discovered that while having the power of telepathy because of being infected by a demon’s blood. And the reason why Oz spoke so little was because he was usually thinking extremely deep, philosophical thoughts.

Plus, he even had the ability to keep his cool in any situation, as she knew all too well that day when the Scooby Gang cornered Freddy Iverson, the editor of the school paper, who had a negative opinion about everything and everybody at Sunnydale High School. Freddy had written a negative review about Oz’s band, Dingoes Ate My Baby (saying they “played their instruments like they had plump Polish sausages taped to their fingers”).

Oz simply said after Freddy apologized, “No, it’s fair.”

Willow frowned.

“What is it, Willow?” asked Oz.

She smiled. At least Oz understood her. And he was a great listener too.

“Exactly what kind of poem could I write about a cookie that is chocolate with white frosting in the middle? And what about-?”

As he usually did, Oz simply sat there and let Willow go into one of her ramblings. She was sometimes like that – just letting her mouth take off ahead of her brain like a train that takes off way too soon.

Finally when she had gotten into what seemed like a third monologue, he leaned over and placed his mouth over hers, silencing Willow at least for the moment.

Willow’s heart began to beat faster, and her mind began to conjure up a great ode that she could write about Oreo cookies...that is, if she didn’t forget it first.

Finally, when they pulled apart for air, Oz then broke the silence.

“So how about that ‛Oreo cookies’ poem...”

Willow pulled herself back to the moment and looked down at the pad of paper. This time she was looking at it with new eyes.

Immediately she began to write....

_“Oreo cookies are really cool._  
_ They make a good snack for school._  
_ Candy bars and other cookies might be out there,_  
_ but with Oreo cookies they just can’t compare.”_

When she read her poem to Oz, he sat there for a minute, and then turned to her, smiling, a pleasant change from how he usually was – impassive or frowning.

“It’s really good, Willow,” he said. “I like it.”

Willow smiled as well. She believed in the saying “Men of few words are the best men”, and she believed that applied to Oz as well. He didn’t speak much, but he did have a deep mind, and he was a very deep thinker too.

And she liked that... a lot.

  


Story: Oreo Cookies  
Categories: Best Fluff

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I hope you liked reading this as much as I liked writing it. After all, Willow and Oz are such a cute couple on the show, and I feel bad that they had to write Oz out of the show by having him leave Sunnydale (and Willow) instead of having him stay with her.
> 
> Anyway, nice feedback is very much appreciated, as usual..


End file.
